


let me hear your body talk

by Ashleymoshow



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Armie is a trainer, Gym AU, M/M, Timothee is his rich client
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 09:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashleymoshow/pseuds/Ashleymoshow
Summary: Based on this prompt from rainbowdazzle - Charmie gym AU: Timmy really hates to work out but the personal trainer at his new gym is just so hot he’s got to plunk down the obscene amount of money to have sessions with him. Still though. Working out. Ugh. One day he calls to cancel his training session due to a heinous hang over and it starts a series of progressively flirtier conversations until the day they decide to face time and really see where this flirtation takes them…..





	let me hear your body talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GlitteryAlienFromPlanetFierce (ChunkMonk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChunkMonk/gifts).



> Thank you to Beth and Marble for proofing this and everyone who cheered me on. This is my first attempt at smut so please be gentle!

Armie had been working at  **Fe** now for the last year in between acting jobs. It was the kind of pretentious gym where they could charge $50/month in fees because you get  **two** towels at each visit instead of just one. He had a hard time telling people where he worked because no one knew how to pronounce the name, not even the other trainers. Was it eff-ee? Fey? Iron? No one knew. They just called it that “high end yuppie gym on La Cienega.” The kind of place where the trainers weren’t allowed to wear shirts with sleeves on them because “the clients pay you to be in shape” and they should want to show that off. Armie had been written up several times already for refusing to go sleeveless. He hated the way the older women would ogle and whistle at him. 

He had a decent amount of clients, almost to the point of closing his books to new clients when his manager Rick had come to him last Monday. “So I know you’re super busy Hammer but there’s this kid who’s  _ insistent _ that you be his trainer.” 

Armie was finishing up his last few reps and used the towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “Did you tell him my rate?” That usually scared most people off. 

“Yeah, I told him it’d be $150 a session but he didn’t budge. Can you make a slot for him next week?” 

Armie pulled out his phone to look at his schedule. He had an open slot the following Wednesday in the afternoon. “Yeah man. I guess I can fit him in next Wednesday at 2pm.” 

“Great, I’ll call him back and let him know.”

And that’s how Armie began seeing this  _ kid, _ Timotheé Chalamet, once a week every Wednesday. The first day he showed up in a bubblegum pink hoodie and grey joggers with sunglasses on. Who wears sunglasses inside? When Armie first set eyes on him he noticed how small he seemed. He was a few inches shorter than Armie and had soft edges. He wasn’t overweight, in fact quite the opposite. His body was soft and smooth where Armie’s was hard and sharp. He carried what looked like a man purse and put his things down in the section of the gym that Armie had cordoned off for them. “Okay, so let’s start with some quick exercises to gauge your fitness level,” Armie had explained. 

Timotheé removed his sunglasses and took a long look at Armie, drinking him in. “Listen man, I’ll be honest with you. I hate working out. I switched gyms because my last trainer expected too much from me.” 

Armie took a good look at Timotheé. He was covered in designer clothes from his elegantly disheveled hair to his Gucci sneakers. “I’ll be honest with you Timotheé…” before he could continue he was cut off.

“Please don’t try and do the French pronunciation. No one can ever get it right. You can just call me Timmy.” 

Armie took a deep breath before he continued. “Okay  _ Timmy _ . I expect a certain level of participation from my clients. They pay me a lot of money to be here so if you can’t keep up, I suggest you find another trainer.” Timmy thought it was hot that there was a vein in Armie’s forehead that bulged when he was getting angry. He wanted to put his tongue there and feel the blood pulse underneath. 

From that point on, Armie could count on seeing Timmy every Wednesday. That was until he started coming twice a week. Every time he would show in even more ridiculously expensive clothing. Thom Browne hoodie, YSL sunglasses, Alexander McQueen hoodie. He had no idea how someone who looked no older than 20 could afford all of these designer clothes. “My dad’s rich, you know.” Timmy remarked out of thin air one session while he was doing a bench press. 

Armie looked around, not quite sure if he was talking to him. “Are you….?” Armie pointed at himself. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“I see the way you look at me. Look at my clothes.” Timmy sighed. “He’s rich okay? Or he used to be.” 

Armie didn’t know where all this was coming from. He was just trying to get Timmy to do a full rep of ONE exercise before he opened his mouth. “Okay man.” Armie put his hands up in a white flag gesture. “Can we just try and get one good bench press out of this set? You’ve been coming for a few weeks now and we’ve barely gotten up to 60 lbs which is what we started with.” Timmy rolled his eyes and Armie felt it go straight to his cock.  _ What was happening?  _

This was their routine each visit. Armie would give Timmy a set of exercises to do. Timmy would huff and roll his eyes through most of it, doing each set begrudgingly. Sometimes he never took off his hoodie, even when it was in the 90s outside. Armie imagined that he smelled like sweat and the expensive cologne he liked to pile on. What Armie wouldn’t give to run his tongue over that dip in his neck and taste the salt and sweat that piled up there. Sometimes he would stoke himself to the thought at night. He knew it was wrong to try and pursue anything with a client, not to mention violating his employee contract. That didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize about the kid.

One day Timmy was working on some bicep curls when he stopped suddenly, just  _ staring _ at Armie.

“What is it now Tim? It’d be nice if we could get through one exercise without you having to make a commentary on something.” Armie scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly exasperated with whatever Tim was about to say. 

“Do you even moisturize?” Timmy was running his tongue over his top lip, gathering the sweat that had been collecting there. “You know a man your age really needs to start a good skincare routine.”

“How old do you think I am Tim?” Armie huffed placing both hands on his hips.

“I mean you look like you’re 35.” Timmy was picking at the skin around his thumb nail. A nervous habit he probably developed as a child. 

Armie rolled his eyes at that. “Fuck you, I’m 30. Now pick up the dumbbells and get back to work.” He had a dumb grin on his face that he couldn’t shake for the rest of the day. This kid was going to be the death of him.

Then there was the time Armie accidentally walked in on Timmy changing in the locker room. He was walking to the sauna after he finished training with Tim and saw Tim get out of the shower. He could have sworn that Tim looked at him and lingered an extra minute before putting his towel on. But that had to be a figment of Armie’s imagination. Right?

They met twice a week for a few months until one day Timmy called to cancel the night before his regular session. Armie was out with some friends so he let it go to voicemail. Timmy said he was too hungover to come in the next day and needed to reschedule and that Armie should text him as he hates talking on the phone.  _ Typical.  _ Armie started typing out a text to Timmy before he went to bed when he noticed the three little dots appear in the text window. Armie glanced at his alarm clock. _ 2:35am _ . He figured the kid would be asleep by now. He waited for Timmy to stop texting. All that appeared 

**Hey**

Hey? What is that? Armie composed his message and hit send. 

_ Hey, got your voicemail. Let me know when you’d like to reschedule your session. _

Three more dots appeared.

**You’re up late** .

_ I was out with some friends. That’s why I didn’t answer when you called. _

**Oh**

**What r u wearing?**

WTF? Why was he asking him what he was wearing? This was highly inappropriate.

_ I’m going to bed now. Let me know when you want to reschedule. _

Armie went to plug his phone in and heard his phone buzz. He was not prepared for what appeared on the screen next. There, staring him in the face, was a dick. Not just any dick. Tim’s dick. It was thick and hard while also slender and beautiful. He could see a bead of precome on the tip and instantly wanted to reach out and lick it. This was really inappropriate. 

_ Why did you send me this? _

~ **Incoming Face Time Call from Timotheé Chalamet~**

Armie debated with himself for all of about two seconds before he clicked the green accept button. Timmy appeared on the screen...naked. Armie could only see him from the chest down. There was just enough light that it looked like his skin was glowing. He looked radiant. Armie could tell he had been touching himself for a while. He was panting and he looked flushed.

“What are you doing Tim?” Armie scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t admit how hard the kid was making him. This was crossing too many lines. He reached into his boxers and made a fist around himself, giving himself a hard tug. 

Tim’s voice came out low and shaky. “What you’ve been too chicken shit to do since I started coming to see you.” The camera moved down lower. Tim’s dick was in full view. Armie could see his delicate hand wrapped around it working in a frenzied motion. It looked like he was already close. 

“Tim…” Armie signed but it wasn’t a plea, at least not to stop. 

“Shut up and help me finish.” Even horny Tim couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Armie kept working his cock, thinking about Tim’s wet mouth all over it. “I’m close…” he heard Tim say on the screen. He gave himself a few long strokes and he was coming all over his chest and stomach. Suddenly Armie wanted to be in that bed, licking up every last drop. 

“God Tim,” Armie sighed before coming himself. He couldn’t believe this kid had just made him come over the phone. Fuck.

“So same time next Wednesday?” Tim’s voice pulled him out of his post orgasm stupor. “Yeah Tim, that uh, that sounds great.” Tim disconnected the call and Armie realized he was totally and utterly fucked.


End file.
